Entombed
by Biohazrd23
Summary: Leon is buried in a coffin underground, and someone is playing sick mind games on him. How did he get there and how will he escape? One-shot story.


_Entombed  
a Resident Evil FanFic  
by Biohazrd23_

**Hey guys, it's me, Biohazrd23, bringing you 'Entombed', a one-shot RE story. You may know me from my Resident Evil parody, Fun At The Mansion, if you don't, go check it out. This was just a simple English assignment, but it got me an A so I must have been doing something right. I was bored and I just felt like uploading it as a fanfic. It doesn't relate too much to the RE storyline, so don't worry too much about that, but it does include Resident Evil characters, so that's enough in my opinion. Please review and tell me what you think, also check out drivenbyrevenge, she's got awesome stories and is the most hilarious writer you will ever find on Fanfiction. Enjoy.**

**-Biohazrd23**

Entombed

"I'm going to die." That was all Leon could think as he struggled for oxygen. He had no idea where he was, or how he got there. All he knew was that he needed to get out. Leon was in complete darkness and could barely move. He could hear rain drops thumping the ground above his head like large boulders being hurled from the sky. He felt the earth shake as a crack of lightning pounded the ground a few feet above his head. Leon knew that he must be underground and the first and only thought that came to his head was that he was buried alive.

The iron casket that he was entombed in had slowly become warmer. Leon started to panic as he realised that he needed to find a way out. He attempted to force the heavy lid open, but the earth above him felt like it was pushing back even harder. There was no way of getting out and as he slowly started to exhaust his low oxygen levels, he started to remember.

Leon was well-known as the best detective that the Copperton Police Department had ever seen, and he had just taken down the country's most infamous underworld gang leader, Alexander Ramirez. Leon received the highest honours and had become the most respected man in America. Then the threats started coming. Ramirez had a lot of dangerous and murderous criminal associates, and unfortunately for Leon, they all wanted him dead now that Ramirez had been locked up. After yet another awards ceremony, he returned home and checked the messages on his answering machine, when all of a sudden, someone came from behind him and struck the back of his head.

Back underground, Leon reached behind his head and felt the wound. The pain was excruciating and he yelled in agony. He urgently felt around his body for anything of use. As he got to his left pocket, he felt a small, square piece of something that felt like paper. He yanked it out and could feel the surface of a photograph. The immense darkness blocked the image imprinted on it, he desperately tried to adjust his eyes and focus on the picture. He put the photo aside for a while and checked if there was anything else that could help him get out. He could feel something in his right pocket. He reached inside the pocket and pulled it out. It was a small torch. Leon clicked it on. The brightness hit his eyes and he quickly covered them in pain. He grabbed the photograph once the stinging had stopped, and hurriedly shined the torch beam onto the picture. The air surrounding him heated as he started to breathe faster. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and into his eyes. As he realised what he was seeing, the image confronted him with tremendous force. It was Leon's wife, Claire, tied up in a small wooden chair, duct tape covering her mouth. Blood was streaming down her beautiful face, leading from a large, gaping bullet hole in her forehead. Specks of blood sprayed the blank wall behind her. Her eyes were filled with tears and her face was covered in agony.

Leon stared at the photograph of his dead wife in misery, his eyes immediately filled with tears as they streamed down his face like a waterfall. He couldn't believe what he just saw; he didn't want to believe it. Leon tore the photo viciously and screamed as loud as he could, over and over again until his throat ached. He was incredibly angry, he yelled again with rage and punched and kicked the hard steel wall of his underground tomb until his knuckles bled.

A small compartment opened up in the wall to his right. Something fell out of it. He tried to focus on it, although he knew exactly what it was when he saw the shape of it. Leon picked up the handgun and noticed a small note, sticky-taped to the side of it. He read it, '_One bullet to end it all_.'

Leon knew what he had to do. He didn't want to but his only choice was to die a long, unbearable death by running out of oxygen or the instant, painless demise at the hands of a gun.

Leon thought about it, and then pushed the barrel up to the side of his head and fired.

Nothing happened. He fired again, still nothing. The magazine was empty. He gave up. He couldn't do it anymore. He dropped the flashlight to his side and just stared. He looked at his feet where the torch beam was shining. Under his foot, was a large padlock. Leon sprung to life and realised that he may just escape after all. He kicked the lock, over and over again, praying that it would break. The padlock finally gave, the bolt snapped with a 'chink', and Leon pushed open the heavy lid of the iron coffin. This was it, he was free. Leon lifted himself up out of the coffin. He was in a small, blank room, the walls were made of concrete, and there was only one door. To the side of his coffin was a pair of large speakers, repeating the sound of rain and thunder. Leon wondered why the person responsible for this would go to all the trouble to set up these mind games. He walked away from the casket and towards the door.

Large words were painted on the door in red paint. '_Just one bullet.'_

Leon cautiously looked around for a doorknob, but there was none. Only a small grey button where the doorknob should have been. He pressed it. The door opened slowly. A loud gunshot ripped through the air suddenly and Leon felt it rip a hole in his chest. He looked down at the bullet hole, then up, at his wife standing there clutching a handgun with the smoking barrel facing towards him. Claire screamed as Leon fell to the ground. He stared up at her, looking at the fake bullet hole in her forehead. She knelt down beside him, crying terribly.  
"No! Leon I'm so sorry!" she screamed.

He was bleeding severely. Claire tried to stop the bleeding by tearing off her shirt and covering the wound. She was panicking and started to hyperventilate.

"I thought you were dead!" she screamed as she showed Leon the picture she had in her pocket. It was a shot of him, lying dead in the coffin. She turned it over, there were words scribbled onto the back of the photo.  
'_Use it wisely.' _As well as instructions, demanding her to shoot the first person that came through the door.

Leon's breathing slowed. Claire was shouting, telling him not to leave her. He closed his eyes and stopped breathing. She yelled as loud as she could, she was covered in his blood. There was nowhere to go. No doors, no windows, nothing that could lead her out of there.

Claire put the handgun up to her head, sobbing. She put her finger on the trigger and fired. It was empty. She fired again. Nothing. There was only one bullet, and she used it to kill the person that meant everything in the world to her.

'_One bullet to end it all.'_


End file.
